You Just Didn't Know Me
by Woffreen
Summary: Fenris and Anders seemed to have arrived at an impasse - one that was knowingly inevitable... But not the one either of them had truly hoped to arrive. / DA2 One-shot. / T for language and violence.


_**A.N.::** This was an entry for a contest on DeviantART, held quite a while ago. Of course, I lost, but I figured you guys might like it here._

_Basically it's just angsty conflict between Anders and Fenris. Fem!Hawke. No romance in this. One-shot._

_Enjoy._

_**Disclaimer: Dragon Age 2 and all characters associated belong solely to BioWare and it's creators.**  
_

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**You Just Didn't Know Me**

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"Go ahead," he hissed through teeth clenched in both pain and fury. "Just do it."

The elf who had muttered those words lay on the ground, bleeding and battered, his strength draining as fast as the scarlet streaming from his wounds. He held himself weakly supported by his elbow, while his other hand gripped his side in attempt to pressurize a gash on his flank. Poised ahead of the elf, with a smoky glow emitting from cracks in the skin as well as the eyes, was the mage who had put him in that condition. The long time enemy who was finally about to win this battle that had been waging for all of the six years they had known each other.

"I should," the possessed human rumbled in the deep, demonic tone that would replace his usual soft and caring voice whenever he became enraged. He held the blade end of his staff to the elf's chest, his muscles tensed in preparation of the final blow.

The elf winced, and for a moment, all of his rage and defiance was forgotten as a wave of fear washed over him. Though the realization of imminent death can change the hardest of souls, even Fenris himself was shocked to find immediate terror take over.

Just as anyone would act in such a situation, Fenris began to recall his life. His time as a slave, his meeting Hawke, and the events in Kirkwall. Though the memories lasted mere moments, he managed to see each with full and complete detail.

The clearest of all, of course, was what happened just before this moment.

Approximately twenty minutes before, Fenris was at the camp where Hawke and her companions had been staying for quite a while. It was in a forest, even further than Sundermount, to be sure they were not found easily. Everyone remained with Hawke still, all except for Aveline, who had gone off on her own to find a new life. She mentioned something about returning to Ferelden, back to her home. Isabela, too, was gone; she had left to set sail as she had done before. Even though she invited Hawke to join her, Hawke refused, and said she wanted to stay with her companions.

That morning, Hawke had told Anders to take Fenris with him on a patrol. Fenris didn't quite know why; he guessed it was yet another one of Hawke's attempts to get the two closer together. She hated the conflict between them just as much as anyone, if not more.

But of course, the two had gotten into yet another argument over their opinions on the mages.

"I am sick and tired of this damn conflict, Fenris!" Anders had yelled in total hatred as he spun around to face the elf. "Why can't you accept the fact that not all mages are like the ones who tortured you as a slave?"  
"You're right," Fenris growled. "_They_ never destroyed a holy place for personal pride. Danarius is the _Maker's blessing_ compared to a _blight_like you!"

"How dare you!" Anders pulled his staff from its holster, but continued speaking. "I had no choice! The circle in Kirkwall was corrupt and leading further into damnation. If there was any other solution, I would have taken it. But it was too late…" His tone softened. "I didn't want it to come to something like that, but I know that lives were saved thanks to the Chantry's destruction."

"Lives were saved? You started a war that nearly tore Kirkwall apart!" Fenris could tell that his words were bringing Anders to become even more enraged, but he refused to cease. In fact, seeing the human begin to lose himself actually drove the elf to continue. "All mages are so selfish. You all think you're doing right by murdering every little thing in your path, by bending and ruining others minds and lives to satisfy your own will!"

"Shut up!" Anders yelled, turning away from the elf, almost as though refusing to look at him any longer. "You don't understand. You don't know me…!"

"I do know you, Anders," Fenris replied, his harsh tone from before now as cold as ice. "I know you show kindness to us all, to _Hawke_, just to gain our trust. Once it was earned, you used it to your advantage. You made Hawke help you with your murderous plan. Once she knew the truth you sobbed and pleaded so she would spare you." As he spoke, his voice began to grow darker and harder, his fury growing rapidly. "I know you will do it again. I know you will turn on us again, and then beg forgiveness like a cowardly mutt. I _know_you will be the death of us all."

"Shut _up_!" Anders shrieked as a cloud of blue burst from his flesh. His soft skin grew dry and cracked, and when he faced Fenris again, his eyes revealed a ghostly glow. A mere moment later, he sent a spirit blast toward Fenris, which threw him back at the sudden blow. He let out a grunt when his back slammed against a tree, but he quickly regained his senses, and reached back to pull his blade out. He stood in a defensive position, feeling a pang of anger toward the mage, along with amusement. Finally he broke him, and they could settle this little conflict doing what they knew best: battle.

Anders twirled his staff and sent out a blast of fire, all in a single movement. Fenris acted quickly, dodging to the side, and saw an opening to lunge at Anders before his next attack. Taking the advantage, Fenris bolted toward the mage, lashing out with the long blade. But the possessed human saw the imminent attack, and thus managed to leap back just in time.

Back and forth they fought, neither managing to actually land a crucial blow. Though they were adept in two different skills, they were of equal level, resulting in a fight that would only seem to end in a draw. Fenris even figured that the fight would end quickly; either Anders would lose his possession, or that Hawke would find them and put it to an end.

But that was not the case.

Fenris let out a pained grunt as Anders managed to land a sharp blow to his arm with the blade end of his staff. Because it was a simple skirmish at first, the intense pain caught the warrior off-guard, giving Anders the opportunity to lunge again, this time stabbing Fenris in the shoulder, right beneath the collarbone. Fenris shouted in agony while he pulled away, reaching up to his new wound with his free hand.

Anders did not hesitate. Swinging the staff again, he scored a gash along the elf's right side, this time enhancing the slice with a fire spell so that it burned the elf. Fenris tried to push away the pain, and managed to lash out with his own sword, cutting Anders along the torso. The mage stumbled back a moment, but due to the demon that controlled him, he did not step down. He ignored the bleeding gash as though it were nothing, and began to shoot fire spells at Fenris. Within moments, the warrior fell to the ground, his strength drowning in blood.

And there he was, dying at the will of his enemy. After the recollection of the action built just moments before, he looked back up to Anders who still held the blade end of the staff to his chest. All was silent, save the heavy breathing from Fenris and the demonic whispers emitting from the energy surrounding Anders. They stared at each other for what felt like hours.  
Fenris's eyes revealed dark, dark fury, along with sorrow. Not sorrow at the fact that his life was about to be lost, but because it was lost at the feet of Anders, someone he had known for years and years. But he sighed, coming to the realization that he had lived a hard life, a regretful life, to what he could remember, and at least it was all going to be taken away at last.  
He flinched when he heard Anders make a sudden move, in preparation of the final blow.  
Fenris clamped his eyes shut and looked away.

Though the time seemed suddenly shorter, it was a few moments before Fenris wondered why his breath still came. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes and glanced up at Anders. The mage was human once again, his skin no longer cracked, the glow ceasing to exist. He was staring at Fenris still, yet with golden brown eyes, no longer glowing with a deep blue. The staff he held was lowered to his side, and the man no longer wore hostility.  
Fenris narrowed his eyes, feeling his heart skip a beat in more shock than relief. "Wh… what?" Fenris croaked in a half-voice. Why had Anders let his guard down? Was it a trick?  
A distant voice seemed to have broken the eerie silence between the two. It was hard to understand for Fenris in his weakened state, but Anders could hear it clearly. And as he recognized it, his heart lurched at the realization.

"Anders!" Hawke's voice echoed. "Fenris? Where are you two?"  
Anders took a step away from Fenris, though refused to let his gaze linger. The elf stared back, his breath coming shorter still, more at the shock of Anders's retreat than anything.  
"What… are you doing?" Fenris croaked.

The mage just looked down, breaking the vision. Another silence hit, yet it was short, for the distant calling began to draw closer. It was soon near enough to the point where Anders glanced in its direction at a hasty speed. He finally looked back at his enemy, whose life was nearly drained away by now.

Anders made a step backwards, then another. His figure was blurry in Fenris's eyes, yet the elf studied the sight, taking it as what he believed would be the last thing he'd ever see.  
Anders opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by another call from the approaching Hawke. She was close enough now that even Fenris realized it, but it was unimportant. What mattered was why Anders did not finish him off. He waited for the mage to beg Hawke's forgiveness and blame everything on Fenris. That's who he was. Fenris was sure of it.  
Yet Anders did nothing. He just stood there.

Fenris felt himself weakening further, unsure of which short breath he took would be his last. But his breathing seemed to freeze all together at the next words to come from the mage.

"You just didn't know me," Anders whispered.

And with that, he turned away and vanished from sight.

Fenris couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that Anders left, when he had the advantage. The mage's retreat had thrown Fenris into a haze. He could not hear anything, could not see anything. Yet he was not blind nor deaf. He hardly noticed when Hawke dropped to his side, trying to bring him back into the real world. He did not notice as he was helped back to camp, as his wounds were treated by the inexperienced healer that Merril was. He did not notice the days go by. The weeks.

This haze that he was in, however, did not blind him. It woke him up. He left his companions very early one morning. He did not go out on a temporary walk. He carried all of his belongings with him. He left Hawke's side, and has yet to find her again to this day. He didn't want to abandon them, he didn't want to find Anders.  
Fenris wanted to know. He wanted to see.

It took many weeks for him to realize it. The past experiences he had known kept blocking his judgment. They kept telling him that all mages were evil. Of course, he tried to have an open mind. And he actually did believe that only the ones he knew in Tevinter were corrupt.

But not for long. Every mage afterward was still as insane as his master.  
Yet, not every mage.

It was this realization that made Fenris really think. He considered what Anders must have felt when he tried to make sense to Fenris. Anders must have thought of Fenris's situation many times, most of which must be because he tried to evaluate the elf's reason for the hatred and his lack of an open mind. Was it true, though, that Anders began to wonder what life was like in Fenris's position? Fenris only knows a short life, despite his age. Throughout his whole memory, all of the experiences with mages were terrible. It wasn't Fenris's fault that through what he knows, every mage was corrupt, that every place he lived in held these monsters in place of real people. Throughout Anders's life, he must have known honorable and noble mages; only recently had he, too, began to run into blood mages and those too weak to resist the temptations of demons. Because of his experience, he would see a mage a gifted person who was treated terribly due to the reputation they've received because of the bad ones.

Because Fenris had yet to meet as many noble mages as corrupted ones…. That was why. That was why Fenris refused to believe the truth in Anders's claims. When Anders considered it, he himself stereotyped Templars as evil because of the events in Kirkwall. No, it may not be as critical, because the Templars normally were corrupt…. But are the mages not the same? Was it not their leader, First Enchanter Orsino, the man who claimed his mages to be free of the blight of abominations and dark ways, was it not him who used blood magic as a hypocritical and cowardly defense of what he thought was right?

Fenris had every right to believe what he did, yet it boiled down to this.

Fenris looked up to the night sky, through the canopy of leaves provided by the unfamiliar forest he was in.

Anders was right.

His voice echoed in the elf's head, over and over again, as it did for the past few months that the elf had spent roaming alone, away from Hawke, away from the war that had ended that day.

_"You just didn't know me. You just didn't know me..."_

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_**A.N.::** Sappy and sad and such. Yeah, that's what I was going for.  
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_Feel free to tell me what you think in a review.  
_


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